Just a Little Curious
by Atari-chan
Summary: Foreman doesn't understand why Wilson puts up with Dr House... until he hears him on the phone. HW slash.


Summary: Foreman doesn't understand why Wilson puts up with Dr House… Until he hears him on the phone. HW slash.

Start story:

Foreman was curious. It didn't usually come to this; usually he suppressed it for fear of acting like House, but this particular matter had been bothering him ever since he'd started working at Princeton Plainsboro. It had nothing to do with him caring on an emotional level, really, which was another thing that he'd tried to avoid; it just really bugged him that he couldn't figure it out.

This _it_, was Dr James Wilson. Foreman didn't have a problem with him or anything; the help he'd provided with that homeless woman case had proved to him that he was a caring, considerate and compassionate man. People _thanked_ him for telling them they were dying, something Foreman had never come across before. The man was a skilled oncologist and a fantastic doctor; his bedside manner was flawless; he was gently persuasive and patiently persistent. Everyone loved him; he got on well with all members of staff, particularly the female ones.

So _why_, Foreman wondered, did he spend so much time with Dr House? Wilson was practically a saint, but he'd put up with House for years. Out of _choice_. From what Foreman had seen, all he seemed to get in return was a torrent of abuse, usually relating to his apparent inability to be faithful- one of the few flaws that Foreman had noticed- and a so-called friend who pretty much ignored him when he had a problem of his own. Foreman just couldn't understand it!

Which was why, at some ridiculous hour of the night, Foreman was outside Wilson's office, trying desperately to think of an excuse to get the conversation going. Wilson was tolerant, but even he was likely to get a little annoyed if a doctor he hardly knew started digging around in his private affairs.

The sound of the phone ringing made Foreman jump, and he tensed as he saw movement inside the office.

"Dr Wilson."

Wilson answered the phone, and Foreman marveled at his ability to sound incredibly chipper despite the fact that he was working late and had been for hours. The absence of Dr House was probably a huge weight off his shoulders, though…

"I'm working late. Some people do, you know."

Wilson's conversation continued, Foreman feeling a little uneasy as he realised that he was most definitely eavesdropping. He wanted to know the answer to his questions, but Wilson was clearly busy. And this was rude, to say the least.

"I know that, Greg. You know I do. But I've got nothing to go home to when you're not here."

Foreman froze before he'd even taken a step. Greg… that was House's first name. But he thought that Wilson had moved out months ago… had he moved back? But House couldn't stand how early he got up, and he hadn't been in a _notably_ bad mood recently… this was weird.

Wilson laughed, "Yeah, thanks. I'm sure Chase'll appreciate that."

Great. That _had_ to be House; it couldn't even be another Greg. How was Foreman supposed to tear himself away now? He _had_ to know.

"Oh c'mon, I can go one night… yes, I can!"

Praying to every God that he could think of that they weren't talking about what he thought they were talking about, Foreman struggled with the impulse to run away and his need to stay. This was going to be a very informative conversation, but if he got caught…

"Yeah. _That's_ why I'm at work. Not because I do, in fact, have work to do, but because I don't want you to hear the six women I invited round the moment I heard you were going away. I just dashed out the moment I heard the phone ringing."

Wilson was half-joking but there was an undertone there that suggested he wasn't entirely sure about that. Was House… getting jealous? Insecure? And were him and Wilson really…

"Greg, I've _always_ known you were an ass. What makes tonight any different?"

_But if he's an ass, why can't you leave him? Why put yourself through that?_ Foreman thought.

"You _know_ why I was unfaithful to them. Because…" Wilson gave an exasperated sigh, and Foreman couldn't help but feel reassured by the knowledge that the other man was capable of such emotions, "I would never do that to you. I couldn't."

Foreman could hear the sadness in his voice, and almost felt a little sympathetic. Wilson was in pain, he was suffering, but he was still refusing to leave him. It was cute, but… kind of pathetic, the way he'd go to those lengths to endure it all.

"No! Because I can trust you, House!"

_Uh-oh_, Wilson was losing his temper, and the sudden switch to using his surname was definitely _not_ a good sign.

"Oh, whatever. Call me back when you're feeling more capable of human emotion."

Wilson hung up, and Foreman was surprised that he didn't hear the phone being thrown across the room. The oncologist had actually sounded annoyed for the first time in Foreman's experience of him, and he'd expected more of a physical reaction after all of that suppression. A moment later, though, the phone rang again, as Foreman realised that Wilson had known it would.

"Wilson."

Decidedly less chipper, Wilson answered again, and there was quite a long period of silence before he spoke again.

"Yeah, I know. But we can't do this if you can't trust me…" there was a pause as he waited for a response, "well, obviously you _don't_."

Foreman wondered how long this had been going on. From the sound of things, they'd had this argument a fair few times before, but Foreman hadn't noticed them acting differently around each other recently. He hadn't noticed any changes since he'd started working at the hospital… but surely if it had been going on for that long, someone would have noticed.

"Yeah, I… wish I was there, too."

Foreman arched an eyebrow; had House just said that he missed Wilson? He'd actually been a little sentimental?

"Oh for God's sake, this is why you called me? So you can get your rocks off?"

_Please, God_, Foreman thought, _tell me that House did not just suggest phone sex. That is just wrong._

"I don't care if nobody's listening, House! I'm not doing it!"

Foreman shifted uneasily; this situation was not only horribly ironic, it was getting distinctly awkward.

"Greg…" Wilson's voice had a warning tone to it, but that quickly dissipated, "Oh, god, don't do this to me…"

He sounded needy, almost desperate, and Foreman closed his eyes. If this conversation progressed the way he thought it would…

"Greg, I _can't_…"

The telltale sound of a belt buckle being undone, though, suggested that Wilson was not quite as reluctant as his objections would suggest. Foreman had noticed pretty early on that Wilson almost always eventually gave in, and now he knew why.

Hang on… he _knew_ the answer, Foreman realised suddenly, wincing as a soft whimper penetrated his thoughts, followed by the sound of a zipper being slowly pulled down. _And if he knew…_

His curiosity sated, and his mind sufficiently scarred by the thought of _House_ being sexy, Foreman made his escape, pulling out his phone and dialling Chase's number as he got far enough down the corridor to ensure that Wilson wouldn't hear.

Inside the office, all sound had stopped. A moment later, though, movement was followed by the opening of the door. Wilson, the phone still in his hand, looked both ways along the corridor and smiled, laughing softly into the phone.

"Yeah, he's gone."

He paused, holding the phone between his shoulder and his ear as he took the opportunity to fasten his trousers again.

"Like anyone would believe him… Cuddy thinks I went home after lunch."

Yawning, he headed back into his office, beginning to gather his things.

"Oh, I am not cruel. He shouldn't have been listening, it serves him right."

Shutting his laptop down, Wilson closed it, perching on the edge of his desk as he waited for it to finish.

"Yeah, alright… Miss you, Greg."

His expression was melancholy as he realised how true it was. A moment later, though, he heard the reply and smiled, unable to help himself.

"Mm. Love you too."

End

Awww. Was being harassed to write more of the actual phone sex, but it wouldn't have been quite as humorous. Still, on the other hand, aforementioned harasser is currently drawing me an illustration for this very piece. I'll see what I can do about linking it from my bio once she's finished. Feedback? Especially about those last 2 lines. Not too sure about those.


End file.
